I love my kids, I just hate parenting
A good friend of mine just had his first baby.
Yesterday, in honor of the happy occasion, I pumped the brakes on my signature snark and shared a rare cheesy post, about some of the the unexpected pleasures of fatherhood. Then I went home, told my son to stop doing something, and had this exchange:
“Why?”
“Because I said so!”
“That’s not a reason.”
Needless to say, today I’m back to my old self.
Kids have an endless capacity for repetition.
I dare you to count how many times yours say “no” or “why” over the course of an afternoon, or how often they want to watch another episode of “Octonauts” or “Rescue Bots”. Sometimes even the same episode!
Children just don’t seem to get sick of things. Parents, on the other hand…
![[E-card] Bite Club](https://i0.wp.com/dadandburied.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/05/fight-club.jpg?resize=500%2C233&ssl=1)
The first rule of Fight Club is you do not talk about Fight Club. The first rule of Bite Club is you never stop talking about Bite Club.
Seriously, if someone bites you, scream bloody murder and alert everyone in your vicinity! Biting is NOT acceptable, even if you’re just a toddler.
Because I don’t care if you’re Batman: getting bit HURTS.
Today’s Wordless Wednesday (with some words) revolves around my son’s current obsession: superheroes.
He’s constantly pretending to be one and frequently enlists me in exciting battles, during which he’s usually wearing a costume and always jumping on my private parts.
While I may occasionally sport a mask or two during these games, he almost always wears a cape.
He has a lot of capes.
Last night, we had our neighbors over for a few drinks. Somewhere between my third and fourth beer, I forgot that I have a kid and a job and am thirty-eight, so I had three or four more beers. Now I want to die.
Thankfully, today is Friday, so I’m at work instead of sitting at home trying to occupy a four-year-old who wants me to pretend to be a firetruck-slash-dinosaur and get on my knees and chase him around the house all while holding my head and trying not to throw up.
Hungover parenting is not a lot of fun.